


To Sleep, Perchance to Dream.

by Walden_Pond221 (orphan_account)



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 16:58:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5751007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Walden_Pond221





	To Sleep, Perchance to Dream.

Clara Oswald could not sleep. Her all night tossing and turning had resulted in the woman dragging herself in the wee hours of the morning to the kitchen for a cup of something warm. Shivers ran down her spine as she watched the coffeemaker brew. 

“Clara? Are you up already?” The Doctor called down the hallway. As he strolled into the kitchen he caught sight of her. He smiled brightly and but quickly found something was amiss. Normally chipper in these mornings together she radiated an air of severe discomfort.   
“Clara are you alright?”

“I just need some coffee, I’ll be fine.” She answered scratchily, waving him off. But his concern failed to waver.

“‘m fine. Honest.” Clara didn’t want him to worry about her, she didn’t want to ruin this time they’d been spending together. 

“If you’re not feeling well you can tell me Clara.”

She shrugged, it was probably nothing anyway. The two stood in their pajamas in the early grey morning. Even in this dim light Clara felt a pressure mounting somewhere in her skull. 

“Look, why don’t you get back to bed? I’ll take care of you today.” He offered gently. She thought for a moment and nodded. A day off from everything sounded nice, a welcome change from their unusually face paced life together. She abandoned the quest for coffee and allowed herself to be carried back to her room. 

Clara dozed, her dreams erratic and unfocused. From his seat The Doctor watched the slow rise and fall of her chest, the way she stirred when she was dreaming. He took her hand in his, drawing slow circles with his thumb on her palm, not believing a creature could ever look so beautiful while snoring. Clara stirred and awoke, her bleary brown eyes searching for a familiar face. 

“Hello there.” 

And there he was. Bright eyes, mussed up hair, his warm hand in hers. The lights were low and she was comfortable beneath the mountain of blankets. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked. 

“My head hurts.” She croaked.

“You humans always have headaches.” 

“No thanks to you.” She teased. 

“I am a healthcare professional!” he huffed. She chuckled as best she could through the sore throat. 

“Do you want anything?”

“Tea would be nice.” 

He bustled off to the kitchen. When he came back Clara sat up and gratefully accepted the tea holding the warmth close in her oversized shirtsleeves. The Doctor pulled up a chair and sat beside her bed. Her hand was in his again and she couldn’t help but smile at him. For all his years kicking around the universe if anything could make him feel brighter than the sun it was her smile. Clara set the cup down on the table snuggled close to him. A warmth stirred in The Doctor’s chest as he ran his fingers through her hair. 

“I think I love you Clara Oswald.”

“I think I love you too.”


End file.
